


I wanna dig in your heart (take away your hurting)

by wesawbears



Series: Care and Keeping of Geralt [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesawbears/pseuds/wesawbears
Summary: Jaskier loves morning Geralt most of all, soft and at peace. It's a rare thing for him to see, but when he's allowed to indulge, he takes his time.--Some soft morning Geraskier, featuring Geralt getting to wake up to an uncharacteristically quiet bard, and Jaskier getting to wake to an uncharacteristically soft witcher.Part of a series, but can be read as a standalone.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Care and Keeping of Geralt [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787761
Comments: 5
Kudos: 216





	I wanna dig in your heart (take away your hurting)

**Author's Note:**

> Some rare Jaskier point of view! I just couldn't get Geralt's voice to work for this one. I hope you enjoy!

Jaskier hummed as he woke, finding himself pressed snugly against Geralt. Sunlight filtered in through the window, casting the room in gold. It was a rare thing for him to wake before Geralt, and rarer still to not be practically flung out of sleep and directly into the day’s travel.

Jaskier considered himself a man of exquisite taste, and loved to savor every sensory experience he could. Life was so full of possibility, with so much to experience. He never wanted to take any of those experiences for granted. It was why it was so important for him to share the sensory world with Geralt, to show him the joys the world had to offer, to counter the sorrows Geralt had experienced. And he could say, without exaggeration, that the ability to see Geralt in the morning, at rest, hair soft and unbound, light reflecting off the silver, was one of the grandest experiences he’d had.

For once, his poet’s mind was quiet. Some things couldn’t be captured. That was the rub, he supposed. His craft required him to take all he experienced and distill it, yet the very distillation dulled the experience. Could words ever capture how something truly felt? Did he even want to capture this? Or did he want to keep the way Geralt’s scars looked in the soft light to himself? 

Eventually, he couldn’t resist reaching out to brush a bit of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. The privilege to touch freely was not one Jaskier took lightly. He traced a finger over the long scar at Geralt’s shoulder, moving to kiss it lightly. Every scar was a moment when something had gotten too close, a reminder of the spider web thread of mortality that hung between them. Gossamer thin, the line he walked.

“Your thinking woke me up,” Geralt murmured, voice raspy with sleep and eyes closed.

Jaskier hummed. “Forgive me, dearest. It just isn’t every day I wake up to such a treasure.”

Geralt huffed lightly, his hair billowing a bit in front of him. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Yes. Morning suits you.’

“Does it?” Geralt drawled, a slight smile on his lips.

“Oh...stop teasing me, you brute. You’re ruining my soft morning.”

“How can I make up for it?” Geralt asked, finally opening his eyes to gaze at him in bemusement.

“I’m sure I can come up with something,” he said, leaning forward to kiss him.

It wasn’t the best kiss he’d experienced, but there was something about the slow intimacy of the morning that made it better, a treat Jaskier rarely got to experience. Moonlight trysts were a delight, but sleepy morning sex was underrated, in his humble opinion.

They moved against each other and Geralt moved to bury his face in Jaskier’s neck, resting there a moment. Jaskier smiled fondly.

“Something interesting?”

“You smell good in the morning.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Really? I haven’t been told that before.”

“You smell like us. Not...whatever you use to cover it up.”

Jaskier hummed and kissed his hair fondly. “I’m glad, then.”

He moved his hand down Geralt’s back, cataloguing the cords of thick muscle, the roped scars that mapped the terrain of his skin, the story of his life in red and white. One day, he would lay Geralt out before him and worship every scar he found. That was not the journey for this morning, though.

For this morning, he moved his hand further still, between Geralt’s legs. He was still open, yielding and he felt Geralt’s soft exhale against his throat.

“Mmm...the oil is so far away,” Jaskier lamented. He wouldn’t leave Geralt here, soft and wanting. He didn’t think he’d be able to bear it.

“Don’t need it,” Geralt rumbled, canting his hips backward. “Just need you.”

Jaskier tutted, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s shoulder. “No. Another time, maybe, but not today. I won’t let you feel any pain today. Let me...roll onto your side for me, love.”

Geralt was easy in the morning, and he followed Jaskier’s instruction easily. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. So good. Now, hold still for me and let me do the rest.”

He moved between Geralt’s legs, and moaned at the thick muscles there. Amending his earlier plan, he resolved to spend yet another day solely worshipping his witcher’s thighs. He shook his head. Another time. Now, he had said witcher soft and pliant in front of him already.

Geralt let him hitch his leg slightly forward, enough that Jaskier could maneuver himself between those lovely thighs. He brushed Geralt’s hair off his shoulder again and kissed there. “I’ve got you, darling.”

He moved against him, in time with Geralt’s hand and relished the soft sounds coming from him. There was no rush, no urgency. Just them and the soft hush of the morning.

Eventually, he felt Geralt’s breath coming in shorter pants. “There we go, love. Nice and easy. For me.”

They lay in the afterglow, Geralt on his back and Jaskier leaning on his side, peppering soft kisses up and down his arm. He traced the soft skin over Geralt’s belly, letting them both come down. In a few minutes, they would need to get up, prepare for the day, pay the innkeep. Jaskier felt his mind stirring and coming to life again, ready to fall back into his easy monologue. For now, though, he was loath to watch the familiar crease find its way back onto Geralt’s face. Jaskier was made for the night, but Geralt was made for mornings like this.

Geralt hummed. “You’re thinking loudly again.” 

“Am I?”

“You’re also humming.”

Jaskier smiled. “Force of habit. The early morning silence has worn off. I’m afraid you’re stuck with my rambling for the rest of the day.”

“Hmm. It was a good morning while it lasted.”

Jaskier huffed. “Ungrateful. I spoil you rotten and this is the thanks I get.”

Geralt glanced sideways at him. “It was a nice morning. Really.”

Jaskier softened. “Thank you, darling.” He leaned to the side and kissed Geralt’s cheek, who hummed in response.

It had been a good morning.


End file.
